


A Mythical Place of Great Magical Power

by MouseBouse



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, ebay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouseBouse/pseuds/MouseBouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alec and Magnus live in the same building, and Magnus’s eBay packages constantly end up in Alec’s mailbox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mythical Place of Great Magical Power

**Author's Note:**

> Because my orders keep arriving to my neighbour’s mailbox and a while ago she rang my doorbell with the most agitated look on her face and said “But it literally says _your_ apartment! How do they keep messing it up?!”
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://mousebouse.tumblr.com).

“Hold on, Iz, let me just…“ Alec balanced the cellphone between his ear and shoulder, the bags from the store in one hand, weighing him down, his other hand fumbling with the key to the mailbox. He managed to get it open and pulled out a tiny grey envelope, with the address sticker covering almost the entire front side. _Magnus Bane, Apartment 9_ , it said, followed by the address of Alec’s building. “Damn it. Again.”

“Again, what?” Izzy’s chirpy voice came through the phone.

“Another eBay package for my neighbor came in,” Alec sighed. This was the third time this month, and it was only the 13th. “He keeps ordering crap.” 

“What do you do with it?”

“What do you mean? I stuff it into its place.” As his sister snorted, he added, “Very funny, yeah, I heard what I said. I _meant_ , I just leave it in his mailbox.”

“Ever thought of telling him to, I don’t know, write his own name on it or something?”

“Izzy, his name _is_ on it. But the mailman keeps putting it with my mail for whatever reason.”

“So you get his bills, too?”

“No, that’s the weird thing, it’s just the stuff he orders online.”

Isabelle was silent for a moment, then changed the subject to the newest case she was working on. As it turns out, she really loved telling her brother about all the people she gets to do autopsies on. _Dead_ people, of course. Even NYPD wouldn’t let their pathologist cut open a still-breathing person. 

Alec quickly left the envelope where it belonged and, still listening about _this giant shotgun slug right up his---_ , _uggh, mental image, Izzy_ , hauled all his shopping bags up to his third-floor apartment. The elevator was broken. Well, not _broken_ , exactly, just extremely dangerous. Some kid from the fifth floor broke his arm by getting it stuck in the door a few days ago and now there was a giant ‘out of service’ sign on it, presumably so his parents wouldn’t sue the building’s manager for misconduct or something.

***

It was nearing the end of the semester and Alec was tired. No, actually, he was tired all the time, now he was _exhausted_. His usual office hours were on Wednesday afternoons, but this year he was the T.A. to one of the most demanding professors on the entire campus, and there were only a few weeks left until summer break, so students were constantly cornering him in the hallways, begging for his help with a particularly difficult area of Complex Analysis. To be fair, it was just that, complex. But still, when you stay at work until 4pm on a Friday, and you were supposed to be home at noon, it can be infuriating. For God’s sake, can’t they just Google it instead of bothering him? Or at least send one person to ask, so he doesn’t have to answer the same question twenty-three times?

So he finally dragged himself to his building at around half past 4, hoping for a relaxing evening in with a book. Any book. Okay, maybe not _any_ book. He wasn’t particularly picky, but he had standards. He still shuddered at the thought of _that_ book he saw so many of his students reading in class.

Out of habit, Alec opened his mailbox. He wasn’t expecting to see anything inside – all the bills had already arrived, and he rarely ever got anything else. But there it was. A little slip of paper that indicated there was a package waiting for him, since he hadn’t been home to receive it. And lo and behold, the paper was most certainly not addressed to _Alexander Lightwood_ , but rather to _Magnus_ frickin’ _Bane_. Any other day, Alec would’ve just slipped it into the mailbox next to his, but it had been a really long day and he had had enough of people getting on his nerves, the mailman and the neighbor included.

He stomped angrily up three flights of stairs, completely forgetting that the elevator was back in order, and pounded on the door so hard he thought the nameplate would fall off. 

“Knocking gently would get me to the door equally fast,” a tall, dark-haired man said as he opened the door, just a tiny hint of an accent in his voice. Alec had seen his neighbor in the hallway occasionally, but never this close-up. And damn if he wasn’t immediately cheered up. The man, Magnus, Alec assumed, was dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit with a purple tie (Did he usually wear those around the house?), his hair up in spikes, and his lips and cheeks shimmering a bit, as if there was glitter on them.

“Yeah, hey, I’m Alec, I, umm, I live next door,” he started, gesturing with his thumb toward his own door, mentally kicking himself for the awkward introduction. He was here to yell at the guy, not crush on him. He could already tell the yelling part wasn’t happening.

“I know who you are. I’m Magnus Bane,” the man said, smiling and extending his hand, colorful rings adorning all his fingers, which Alec accepted firmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have this for you,” Alec said and handed the peach paper to Magnus, “Your mail keeps finding its way into my mailbox.”

“Is that so? I never realized anything was missing.”

“That’s because I move it to yours, but it’s been happening a lot lately and I just wanted to ask if you could, like, make your name more prominent on your orders in the future or something?” Alec asked in one breath, cringing as he realized how weird he must sound.

To his relief, Magnus smiled again, “Of course, I’m sure there won’t be any more mistakes.”

Just as Alec was about to thank him and leave, he added, “Then again, I wouldn’t mind seeing your face at my door more often. How about you come in for a drink and I promise to make sure no more of my mail stumbles in with yours?”

It was all in the name of good neighbor relations, Alec told himself as he accepted Magnus’s invite. So was the fact that it wasn’t _a_ drink, but three. And the fact that the next week he invited Magnus over for dinner. And the fact that he cooked instead of ordering in. And the fact that Magnus kissed him that night before leaving. And the fact that the week after that they were officially dating. And the fact that six months later, they were no longer neighbors, but roommates.

(And if several years later, mere minutes before their walk down the aisle, Magnus finally admits that he had, in fact, been the one to slip his mail into Alec’s mailbox, hoping it would drive him mad enough to talk to Magnus, well, Alec was rarely one to hold a grudge.)


End file.
